The Best Work Out Of My Life: This Isn't What You Think It Is...

I’d like to believe that I’ve learned a lot in my mere nineteen years. I’d like to think that I’ve grown and matured and understood, all in that short time. The mass amount of small insights I’ve cultivated over the years is innumerable, but every once in a while I’m reminded of one tidbit specifically, when it rises to the surface and stands on a wave and calls out to the rest of the world, making itself known in the landscape of my mind.

Today, that surge went by the name of “change”.

Change is something I struggled with deeply, and I know in this I am not alone. All humans fear change. It is in our nature. We grow comfortable in the repeated routine, we nestle ourselves into the familiarity of the known. Change is fear. Change is unknown. Who wants to feel ignorant? In the dark? Left without information? Who wants to not know?

Four months ago I returned home from my first year away from home, a matured semi-adult with a year’s worth of college blue books and 8 AM’s under her belt. The first order of business was to join a gym. At home, I had never belonged to a gym. I spent my early childhood as an athlete, practices and double headers as my workouts. In my years of adolescence, a bag of bones with no strength or purpose, exercise was not in my vocabulary. And when I did sneak it in, for we all know that alarm I set for 3:30 AM when the house was long asleep was not for anything other than 100 crunches in the dark, I didn’t need a gym. Away at school, finally in the confines of stable health, I frequented a gym for the first time.

And I was scared.

Scared to change. To change my environment, to exert myself in the presence of strangers. But I soon fell in love with the complexity of the machines, the atmosphere simply charged with determination and strength. Surrounded by people chasing the euphoria of challenge, of improving. I was scared to change, to bring about change. But for change I am grateful.

But no matter how much we change, there is always more to alter. Change is constant, is omnipresent, and is never complete. Change is immortal. We can always change. There is always an opportunity for more, more change.

I came home for the summer, and joined a wellness club and gym that I quickly fell in love with. State of the art, immaculate, it was breathtaking. I spent my first two weeks there embracing the change in scenery, but not a change in my workout split. I stuck to familiar circuits, machines, etc.

One day, I accidently stumbled upon the indoor cycling studio. I peaked inside, and was overwhelmed by the dedication that felt was flowing through the walls, a tsunami of inspiration. These riders were giving it their all, some even smiling, laughing. I had never taken any sort of fitness class before. I was intrigued, but not persuaded. I spent a whole week after this in my usual habits, until the temptation was eating away at me. I needed to try this, to bring about change.

The following Saturday morning, I took my first ever indoor cycle class. I won’t drag on about how empowering it was. I’ll leave it at that; it was moving. Literally, figuratively, spiritually. I pushed myself to great lengths and showed myself that I am capable of more than I’ll ever know. It was freeing.

That was three months ago. Today, I embarked on my very last ride before returning to school for another year at school. This ride was the best ride of my life. Here’s why.

For some reason, everything about this Saturday felt surreal. I woke up before my alarm, a strong and radiant sun gently poking through my shades, tickling my skin, asking kindly for me to rise. I woke with ease. I woke with a grateful heart. How lucky am I, to have the sun?

My twenty-five-minute drive to the gym was a driver’s dream. Every light I approached turned green, as if on command. Every song that came on the radio was either an old favorite or a new and exciting release. I never had to flip stations. I belted word after word on the open road, alone in the world on this Saturday morning. My trusted emcees pumped hype into my veins. By the time I pulled into the parking lot, my volume was on max and my hair was flipped over and over again. Raving on the road; not super safe, but not totally frowned upon.

Feeling euphoric, I got to class fifteen minutes early and strapped into my usual bike, 26. I began to pedal away, warming up my body to match my soul, already alive with warmth on this morning. As magical as I felt, my body was a little sore, a little tired, a few steps behind. I gave myself forgiveness and understanding. I took this warm up period to let my body know that I would do my best to make the most of my last class. I wouldn’t push myself beyond what I couldn’t handle. I would have FUN, the whole basis of wellness. The reason I move; the reason I live. To walk away and feel empowered, grateful, capable. Not to attain a numerical indication of these things on the screen in front of me. But to feel it flowing through me, down to my core.

That last ride…

I’m still at a loss for words. I’ve pushed myself harder in previous rides. Much harder. I’ve grown used to finding my breathless point repeatedly throughout my ride. But today, I was at peace riding simply for the pleasure of riding. I pushed myself, following bass drops and rapid beats, but in the time and space in between I collected myself and let myself be. My feet pedaled as they saw fit. My mind danced along thoughts of the upcoming year, the amazing summer I was leaving behind. With each hill and split, I felt grateful. How blessed was I to have the chance to be so free? To glide and push and run run run forever, forever in these short sixty minutes? A body that is no longer a victim of a mind. A body that is free to be the body it was crafted to be all along? A mind that is forgiving and understanding? How far I could go, on this bike, in this room, a room filled to the brim with adventure? Surrounded by dedication, diligence, soul. How. Blessed. I. Was.

Am.

My ride ended. But my soul went on forever.

I unbuckled and stepped off the bike. I realized for the entirety of the ride, I paid no mind to the screen in front of me. To the calories, the miles, the resistance. Instead I tuned into how my body felt, how much fun I was having, what felt right for me in that time. Upon finishing, I took in my stats. I’ve done more. I’ve burned more and gone further before. But never have I finished a ride and felt so strong, free, accomplished. These are sensations numbers cannot grant.

Before this workout, I felt blessed. I took into account the immensity of life, and was grateful for it all. I appreciated elements as small as green lights, ones as massive as the sun. I forgave myself for everything and nothing at all. I allowed myself to chase freedom and fun instead of calories and distance. I was free to embrace moving my body, not despise every second of it.

THIS is what allowed me to have the best work out of my life…to date. I plan on beginning every workout with such a mindset from this day on.

Later, as I was exiting the gym, the kind soul in front of me held the door for me. I continued the kindness seconds later, when a father pushing a stroller was approaching the entrance. With one hand, he guided the stroller; with the other, he guided a toddler. Though he was about a minute’s walk away, I stayed behind and held the door for him. He thanked me an upwards of six times, the appreciation bubbling in his eyes. I got in my car and was simply overwhelmed. A mere thank-you for a simple action brought me to tears. My ride was so spiritually awakening that I was able to see all the good the world had to offer in that moment.

I’d like to believe that I’ve learned a lot in my mere nineteen years. I’d like to think that I’ve grown and matured and understood, all in that short time. Change reared its head once more today, this time taking shape in a change of mindset. When I entered my workout in a state of love, gratitude, and peace, I was transformed in my worldview. I felt a greater appreciation for my body, for my soul, for my long-overdue peace of mind. I felt a stronger sense of effort, mine and the effort of those around me. I felt alive.

My exercise addiction caused me, at a young and vulnerable age, to fall victim to the belief that working out was a means of measuring success. The more calories burned, the further I ran, the better of a person I was. My life would automatically be of higher quality.

But today, I finally realized this is not true. Moving your body in a way that excites you, that challenges you to BE more, that is what the goal should be. Find a way to move that allows you to be at peace with the body you have, to appreciate what it can do, and to fully support it no matter what. Work out to feel alive, to feel that rush. Wake up and soak up every last inch of gratitude, of love for life. Begin each workout with a reminder that you will do what you can, and not what you cannot. Respect your body and allow it to chase after what feels right. Your quality of life depends on what radiates from your heart, not from the screen on your FitBit. Love yourself and life. Make the most of your ride. A lot can happen in sixty minutes…imagine this euphoria on a life-long scale? Simply indescribable.